


His Mother’s Hair

by gay_pasta



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Bead significance, Momma Puffy, Puffy has beads!! And braids!! They are important, also she has amnesia apparently canonically?, awww, flower signifigance, forget-me-nots, jasmines, ranboo is totally her son, schlatt and puffy sibling pog, shes got a bead for everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-20 21:00:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30010869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gay_pasta/pseuds/gay_pasta
Summary: Ranboo asks Puffy about the beads in her hair. She tells him a story.
Relationships: Cara | CaptainPuffy & Jschlatt, Cara | CaptainPuffy & Ranboo, Cara | CaptainPuffy & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Cara | CaptainPuffy & TommyInnit, Cara | CaptainPuffy/Niki | Nihachu
Kudos: 35





	His Mother’s Hair

The wind whirled around Puffy’s small home. Torch’s fire sprung away from the source, whipping ash into the air. 

Ranboo sat on his stool, Puffy relaxed into her armchair. Her hands were careful, brushing a comb in and out of his greyscale tangles. 

Light from her fireplace illuminated their faces, all other lamps in the house being extinguished. 

Their legs were warm under blankets, protecting them from the chill breath of the sky and the springtime storm. 

Puffy’s hands expertly grasped one half of his hair, splitting it into thirds. A tight braid arched from his hairline to the back of his head, where she tied it into a neat bun with a soft red ribbon.

The strands were tied, straight, and uniform lined up like rope for the sea. She let her hands drag to the other half of his hair, tying it just as tight, loops marching like an army into the trenches.

The bun was lovingly secured with a green bow, satin or velvet, he wasn’t sure. Puffy smiled at her handiwork, tracing the braid with her hand.

“One of my best ones,” She murmured, gazing fondly at the neat rows. Ranboo reached his hand up, hesitating. He pulled off his glove, pulling his clawed hand free from its coverings.

His fingers ran from the tip of the braid to the base, circling the bun. He looked back at Puffy, tilting his head curiously. 

Reaching into her cloud of hair, he revealed a braid with a round red bead at the end. “What does this one mean, Puf...Mom?” 

She glanced down at him gently, humming softly. “That one is for my mother,” She explained, running her fingers over the bead. It was engraved with small swirls, curving up like the waves in an ocean. 

“Your grandmother,” She leaned back into her chair, basking in the warmth from the fire. “She was a tall, strong woman.” Ranboo turned eagerly.

“Now, Ranboo, I don’t remember everything. I’ve lost most of it, to time. But I don’t feel as though I could ever lose her.”

Puffy’s lips quirked into a playful smile. “She used to go everywhere around the world, bringing me back gifts, coats, clothes.” 

Pressing her fingers around the bead, she curled her feet under her legs. “She brought me this...collection of beautiful beads, from all the places she had gone. Eventually, I wanted to make one that reminded me of her.” 

The swirls in the bead seemed to almost glow in the firelight. “I carved this, showing the seas she traveled on. One day, though, those seas took her.” Puffy sat back down. “I tied the bead into my hair, so every day, I think of her, and how happy she made me feel, how valued.” 

Ranboo pulled gently on the ribbon in his hair. He looked up at his mother shyly. “Well…” He twisted his hands together. “Maybe these ribbons can symbolize how happy you make me feel!” 

Her eyes were crinkled. She leaned in conspiratorially. “Maybe I’ll make you a special bead, to remember me by.” His eyes widened, and he nodded, beaming. 

She pulled her long fingers through her hair, eventually catching on another bead, and showing it to Ranboo. “This one is for you, my little goose.” He touched in reverently, the small crown gracing its sides inlaid with silver. 

“I love it!” He smiled up at her, big mismatched eyes glowing. She chuckled. “Wait, wait!” He leaped to his feet, searching through her fluffy hair.

He grabbed a bead, immediately wincing when Puffy grimaced. “Not so hard,” She called. “Sorry,” He whispered. 

The bead he had found was green, inlaid with thin stripes of black and gold. “Tubbo?” Ranboo guessed. Puffy nodded sweetly. “Yes.”

He perched on the arm of her chair, searching the waves for more colorful beads. Way in the back, there was a lime coloured bead. A black mark covered up most of the colour, and it looked almost...burned. Puffy smiled grimly. Ranboo was pretty sure he could guess who that bead had been for, and he really didn’t want to pry. 

A black bead adorned with red was the next he found. “My brother,” Puffy muttered. “He used to have my bead, till he cut it off.” She looked at her lap bitterly, trying not to let her emotions betray her. “When he left,” She added, “I followed him. I asked him why he’d leave, there was...so much for him there.”

Her laugh was hollow. “All I can remember of him anymore is him leaving. Maybe he actually cared, once.” She looked at her knotted hands. “But all I see is empty streets.” 

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

‘Puffy dashed through the muddy puddles, the lanterns from the street shops reflecting in the water. “Schlatt, c’mon! Dad doesn’t think you’re a failure. We all want you back. After all, we can help! You don’t have to go! You can stay here, with us. With me.” 

Schlatt’s barely concealed anger ripped forth, and he glared accusingly at Puffy. “Easy for you to say.” He stared her down. “It’ll be fine!” He mocked. “You think the world is all sunshine and rainbows, huh. You think that, because you’ve always been the favorite!” His face was screwed up with emotions, eyes dark and glassy. “Well, it’s fucking not. I can’t live my life in this...hellhole, doing everything wrong, fucking everything up. Our father doesn’t give a shit about me.” 

He chuckled. “And, for a moment, I thought you’d understand. But you’ve always had it perfect, right? The perfect kid, perfect friends, perfect life.” He turned from her. 

“You’d never understand.” His fingers pulled a sharp shard of glass from his knuckle, and he wiped the blood haphazardly on his shirt. It left a sickening crimson stain on the white, blooming out like a carnation. 

He raised it to his dark locks. “Schlatt, no,” Puffy’s voice wobbled, and she tried not to cry. “I’m done, Puffy.” The glass tore through his hair, the pale bead laced into it falling to the road. It rolled into a wet patch, the pure white being muddied by dirt. Puffy fell to her knees, staring at their past. Schlatt turned and left down the street, never looking back to his sister, sobbing in the dark, soaking night.’ 

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Ranboo frowned. I’m sure there’s a happy bead in here, his mind mulled. He pulled locks of hair aside, finding a red and white one. “Tommy’s,” Puffy supplied. 

“I tied that in when I realized that I could be his home. New memories, a new life, and someone who I could protect.” 

The bead design was simple, really, and seemed to be hastily carved. The edges were rough, but you could tell she cared.

A gold-painted bead shone out next to that bead, green gemstones aligning themselves across it. “Foolish. I felt like him being my son and all earned him a bead,” She laughed jokingly. “Those are real emeralds, by the way. I spent hours in the village for those, and he doesn’t even know.” She shook her head, but a smile cracked her lips. 

Ranboo traced the bumps in the intricate bead, awed. “These are incredible, mom!” He gushed. Puffy rubbed her neck, smiling awkwardly. “They’re pretty important to me,” She said quietly.

His claws latched onto a pink bead, with a crack of white across it. Green glinted from within the white, and he looked at it curiously. “Whose - “ Puffy looked, craning her neck. “Michelle,” She answered. “She connects me to Tubbo, and to you. I want to remember that.” 

Ranboo smiled at his mother, carding his hand through her hair. The last bead caught his eye. He pulled it closer to his eyes. It was beautiful. It looked thin, but not close to shattering. Swirling colours of blue curled around its edges blended like a river. 

Two flowers were painstakingly placed into the blue, painted delicately, almost as though they were plucked straight from a garden. 

He thought for a moment, gazing at the two carvings. A pale blue with a gorgeous yellow centre, and a creamy white that looked similar to a lily. Soft golden fronds folded out of the second, striking against the pale colour.

“A forget-me-not and a jasmine. Am I correct?” He looked down at Puffy. She nodded at him, smiling. “You know so well, I’m proud.”

He thought over the wooden petals again, considering. “Forget-me-nots symbolize…” He twisted his ring, mind whirring. “True love.” Puffy beamed. “And Jasmine. That’s -“ He tried to recite from his flower book. “Modesty and love!” He grinned triumphantly.

Puffy clapped him on the shoulder. “You got it! Nice job, flower expert.” Ranboo flushed, looking down sheepishly. “I just memorised. Nothing special.” He cocked his head, confused. “But...who is it for?” 

Puffy exhaled, leaning forward. “The love of my life.” Her eyes grew misty. “I always thought I’d see her again. I made this bead to remind myself how love can thrive even amidst a war. But,” She murmured sadly, “Love can’t survive every ordeal.” 

“It’s for Niki,” He realised. Puffy nodded, wiping the budding tears from her eyes. She choked back a weak sob, and Ranboo hugged her. 

“Love can thrive, though,” He mumbled into her ear. 

“You remembered your mom, or, well, your love for her. You may not know everything, but you know you loved her and she loved you back.” He sat up. “And I know I love you. You’re my mother.” He ran his hand across his braid again.

“Your beads help you remember. You help me remind myself that I can be loved, and I should be loved.” He smiled at her, not surprised to see tears welling in her eyes again. “I love you, mom,” He whispered.” 

“Thank you, goose.” She hugged him again. “Always.”

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Surrounded by obsidian walls and dark lighting, it was hard not to look at Niki’s hair. Techno’s hair was pink too, of course, but Niki’s was bright. Almost unnatural.

Ranboo stared at it as Techno droned on about anarchy, and government, and secret names. Niki’s hair curled back and forth, and Ranboo wondered how Puffy thought Niki was blue.

She was an angry color, a bitter color, certainly not calm, smooth oceans. She reminded him of whiskey. She burned, but she also seemed so good.

Leaning over the table, her bright pink hair fell from its tuck behind her ear. A braid swung out, and Ranboo thought that was like his mother.

He would’ve looked away, had the tip of the braid not...glinted. He leaned ever closer, almost toppling off his chair. 

A bead was tied onto the braid. It was a pale lilac, with silver outlines and red shapes. “Oh,” Ranboo murmured. Niki’s eyes shot to him, and he hastily busied himself with his gloves. 

Puffy. Those were her colors. But she thought Niki had abandoned her bead. If she hadn’t...then what did that mean?

A sudden strike of bravery compelled him, and he cleared his throat. Niki looked at him once again, eyes seeming to pierce his very being. 

“Um, sorry to interrupt but...what is that bead?” Niki’s eyes narrowed, but a flash of vulnerability shone through. 

“I-“ She hesitated. “It’s nothing. Just someone I…used to know. They gave it to me, I mean.” 

Ranboo nodded awkwardly. Thoughts consumed him. Did she truly still care for Puffy? If she didn’t, why would she keep the bead? She must’ve known it was significant, right? 

Ranboo touched his own hair, where a multicolored bead was braided into the bottom of his head. He could feel Puffy’s hands winding his hair, twisting it around itself, and murmuring sea shanties she couldn’t remember the words to.

He wondered if Niki could feel it. Did Puffy braid her hair? Did she tell her what the beads meant? What the flowers meant? 

Did Niki braid Puffy’s hair, messily but kindly, giggling every so often when Puffy let out fake exasperated sighs and complain about how long it was taking? 

Ranboo shook himself out of his stupor. He needed to focus. He just...he wished his mother could have had a happy ending with this bitter woman. Maybe they broke each other down, but she was happy. They were both happy. And now, they were in tatters. 

He kicked his feet. The stupid universe and its dumb rules. Didn’t they, out of everyone, deserve to be happy?


End file.
